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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849420">Handful of Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gladdybug/pseuds/Gladdybug'>Gladdybug</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gladdybug does Ferdibert Week 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Breast Worship, Come as Lube, Domestic Fluff, Ferdibert Week (Fire Emblem), Ferdibert Week 2020 (Fire Emblem), Fluff and Smut, Fondling, Hand Jobs, Husbands, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Soft Ferdinand von Aegir, Soft Hubert von Vestra, soft dom Ferdinand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:41:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,526</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849420</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gladdybug/pseuds/Gladdybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ferdibert Week Day 4: Comfort</p><p>Hubert lets himself indulge in comfort of his husband's embrace. </p><p>“It has been a long day, and I find comfort in the company of my beloved. Allow me to indulge, if it is no inconvenience to you.”<br/>“None whatsoever.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gladdybug does Ferdibert Week 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872868</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Handful of Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/rommymena/gifts">rommywommy (rommymena)</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>UPDATE: <a href="https://twitter.com/gladdybug/status/1316236886252425217">NOW WITH ART!</a><br/>Alternate summary: world hard and cold, Ferdinand tiddy soft and warm.</p><p>I don't know how to write hurt/comfort, so I settled for writing about comfort. Specifically, Hubert finding comfort in Ferdinand's boobs after a long day. Hope you enjoy!</p><p>Gifting this to ROM because she's the one who dragged me down tiddy appreciation lane! &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hubert’s station in life allows him few luxuries, despite his liege’s insistence that their wars have been won and he’s earned the right to indulge in the finer things in life. He’s too accustomed to hiding knives in his sleeves and sipping poisoned tea to breathe easy for once; the work will never end as long as the throne needs its spymaster. Not to say that he’s sworn off of all comforts, he supposes, but in the years after the fall of the Agarthans, he’s a little slow adjusting to the pleasures of peacetime. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of these pleasures is his husband, his fellow Jewel of Adrestia, Ferdinand von Aegir. How he had convinced the bright and brilliant Prime Minister to wear his ring still eludes him; if he knew, he would write a pamphlet and distribute it to all the courting lovers in Fodlan. But the glimmer in Ferdinand’s wet eyes as he blubbered his way through his wedding vows and thrust his hand into Hubert’s face to slip a ring onto was a sight more beautiful than any fine painting he could purchase, the taste of his lips as they kissed as a wedded pair for the first time sweeter than any wine. He did not care much for land or riches, so long as he ended every day in the embrace of Ferdinand’s arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once an imposing figure on horseback, all hard lines and cut muscle, peacetime and ministerial work had smoothed Ferdinand’s edges somewhat. Though he was still an unparalleled equestrian and absolutely lethal with a lance, a layer of softness had made its home on his belly and rounded out the planes of his broad chest, something Hubert found absolutely irresistible. The first time he noticed was after a long day being shuffled from meeting to meeting until his head swam with gibberish from pompous and pretentious former nobles trying to retain their hold on their old titles. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Our house has served the throne for centuries!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>this and </span>
  <em>
    <span>“What do you think you and the Emperor are doing?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> that; his favorite ones were those who invoked their old noble status, as if it had power under the new meritocracy Edelgard had built and bled for. He trudged back into his and Ferdinand’s shared private quarters at Enbarr, hidden in the back of the palace through twisting hallways and decorated with mementos (mostly collected by Ferdinand) to their time together. A painting here, a seashell there, each one carrying a happy memory shared in their time together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he arrives, Ferdinand is already in bed, nibbling on his fingernails as he reads with his hair brushed out and his silken pajamas half-buttoned. So engrossed is he in the novel before him that he fails to notice Hubert’s entrance until the dark-haired man clears his throat, upon which Ferdinand jumps out of bed, drops his book, and yanks his fingers out of his mouth only to rest them on Hubert’s shoulders, still shining with spit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Hubert,” he coos, “you look dreadful. Did those meetings really drain you so?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hubert grunts and looks away. Ferdinand had been at the greater part of those meetings himself, carrying the conversation where Hubert couldn’t and smoothing out any rough feelings left by the imposing Minister of the Imperial Household; it was why they worked together so well. Really, only the last one that had run late, with a Duke Hamish cornering him in the doorway after everyone (including Ferdinand) had left and demanding that Edelgard recognize his eldest son as the next duke, spittle flying every which way from the man’s whiskery mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Duke Hamish happened,” he admits, unbuckling his cape and draping it over the sofa. His gloves are next to come off as Ferdinand sets to work on the buttons down the front of his jacket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he ask you about his son again?” asks Ferdinand, “the one at the Officers Academy? Whom we invited to sing at the Equinox ball last autumn?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, the one with zero interest in becoming the next Duke Hamish and all the interest in joining the Mittelfrank Opera Company,” says Hubert, letting Ferdinand pull the jacket from his shoulders and fold it on top of his discarded cape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is a splendid singer,” says Ferdinand, “he could give Dorothea a run for her money.” His eyes flash with a hint of guilt. “Um, please do not tell her I said that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hubert snorts; a laugh. “You have my word, love.” Already, talking with Ferdinand has lifted his spirits enough to finish undressing. He shoos Ferdinand to bed with promises that he will join as soon as he washes up, finally sliding between the sheets next to his husband smelling of the spices and herbs in his bathwater. Ferdinand puts down his book and lets Hubert fold himself around him, laying chest-to-back with Hubert’s nose buried in his hair. Hubert sighs, the feeling of Ferdinand’s solid warmth in his arms easing his frustrations. How he ever managed to sleep without the weight of another person against his body is beyond him. He tightens his hold on Ferdinand as Ferdinand snuggles into him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are quite cuddly today,” jibes Ferdinand, twisting so that he can glimpse Hubert, who simply hides his face in Ferdinand’s bountiful mane. He takes one of Hubert’s hands in his and laces their fingers together, placing it over his heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has been a long day,” answers Hubert, trying not to accidentally swallow a mouthful of amber locks, “and I find comfort in the company of my beloved. Allow me to indulge, if it is no inconvenience to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ferdinand shrugs. “None whatsoever,” he says, moving Hubert’s hand from his heart to rest over one of his pectorals, rounded and plump from being squished against the bed. He presses Hubert’s hand to his chest, encouraging the curl of curious, magic-scarred fingers as they test the waters with a gentle squeeze. “Maybe this will make you feel better,” he chuckles as Hubert shivers behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ferdinand’s breast is warm in his hand. Quickly growing tired of the silk barrier between them, he slides his hands in the open V of Ferdinand’s shirt to slide his hands across his bare chest, smooth save for a smattering of hair that Hubert knows glitter like coins in the sun (beach trip; previous summer; he couldn’t get the image out of his head for days). Ferdinand’s chuckle rumbles low in his chest as Hubert continues his exploration, vibrating pleasantly against Hubert’s palm. If he digs his fingers in at a certain angle, he can feel the solid muscle underneath. Hooking his fingertips where Ferdinand’s pecs end and his ribs begin belies a softness that he finds hypnotizing. He flicks his fingers just to feel Ferdinand’s breast jiggle in his hand and smiles into Ferdinand’s hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels Ferdinand press a little firmer against him, rolling his hips back into Hubert’s lap. “Having fun?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have no idea,” groans Hubert, thrusting forward in response, his cock hard against the fullness of Ferdinand’s ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ferdinand pulls away and rolls onto his back, revealing the full extent of his arousal as his own cock tents the sheets on his lap. He holds out his arm, inviting Hubert back into his grasp, and Hubert immediately understands where he’s supposed to go. He scoots closer to Ferdinand and lays his head on his husband’s chest, one hand folded beneath him, the other one reclaiming its place clamped over Ferdinand’s breast. He can hear Ferdinand’s heart beating his ear and turns his head to kiss at the tantalizing curve of Ferdinand’s pec, lost in the warmth and pleasantry of being indulged so generously by his beloved. His lips tease gently at a peaked nipple and Ferdinand arches into his touch, reaching down with his free hand to grasp at Hubert’s erection. As soon as Ferdinand’s fingertips breach the waistband of his pajama pants, every annoyance, every frustration he had experienced that day vanishes like smoke into the aether. There is only Ferdinand, his softness and generosity, laughing lovingly above him as Hubert’s tongue laves dutifully at his nipple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s pliant and docile in Ferdinand’s hold, letting Ferdinand stroke him until he paints his stomach white with his release, whimpering muffled cries into Ferdinand’s cleavage as Ferdinand kisses his brow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beautiful, darling,” he murmurs against Hubert’s forehead, the movement of his lips sending little tingles across Hubert’s sensitive skin, “did that feel good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hubert sighs blissfully, eyelashes fluttering as he blinks himself back to reality. “Yes,” he says, dragging a tentative hand through the mess on his belly, wincing as the slickness grows cold from the air. “Thank you, love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ferdinand simply smiles in response, smoothing wayward curls from Hubert’s hair before leaving bed in search of a towel. It is then that Hubert notices that his husband is still hard in his pajama pants and the desire to drag Ferdinand into the pleasurable bliss of orgasm wells within him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well. I think I can do something about tha</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>t,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks, eyeing the still-slick spend on his fingers with determination before parting his legs and reaching behind himself. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had like 8 angsty ideas and I trashed them all in favor of BOOBS. The heart wants what the heart wants, I guess!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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